Disrobing the Maid
by HermioneGirl96
Summary: Malcolm Grimm does eventually catch one of his children disrobing the maid. Trouble is, it's the wrong child. A one-shot featuring lesbian!Mordelia and brotherly!Baz.


**Disclaimer: Rainbow Rowell owns the characters.**

I was only seven when my brother brought his boyfriend home for the first time. I didn't understand why Daddy was so angry. Of course, all of my picture books had featured knights rescuing princesses, but life didn't always have to be like a picture book, did it?

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I was twelve when I decided that Alice Finlay was the cutest student at Watford. I spent hours daydreaming about her soft brown eyes and shining blond hair—about the way her legs looked beneath her skirt—when I should have been doing homework or practicing violin. It felt so normal and obvious that it took until I was thirteen for me to realise that this meant that I myself was queer.

.

I was fourteen when I came out to my brother. He and Simon had been married for four years by that point, and they'd just had a baby through surrogacy. They didn't spend holidays with our family. Father hadn't said anything against either of them in quite a while, at least not to my knowledge, but that didn't mean they felt welcome around him. When I told Baz I was pretty sure I was lesbian, he hugged me long and hard, told me never to apologize for who I am or who I love, and cautioned me not to tell Father until it was necessary. "Give him time," Baz said. "I think he's slowly realizing that Simon and I aren't going to magickally stop being married and start being straight, but he's still got a long way to go."

.

I was fifteen when I had my first kiss. My roommate, Emily, was at lacrosse practice, and Talia Merriweather and I were sitting on the floor in my room studying for an Elocution exam when suddenly Talia turned to me and said, "Charlotte says you're a lesbian."

I crossed my arms. "There's nothing wrong with being a lesbian."

"No, I know. That's not what I meant." Talia used both hands to pile her dark red hair on top of her head. Her boobs were straining at her uniform top, and I had a clear view of them now that her hair was out of the way. "I meant, I am too. And I haven't told anyone. But I kind of have a crush on you."

"Oh," I said. I hadn't really thought about Talia in that way before—I'd taken my brother's advice and tried to tamp down on any crushes I might have before they got out of hand, since odds were that anyone I might crush on would be straight—but she looked amazing there in her slightly-baggy pants and filled-out top, and I let myself start to want, rather than holding back like I usually did. "Do you want to snog?"

"Hell yes. Do you?"

I smiled, letting myself get drawn into her hazel eyes. "Why the hell not?"

Talia and I didn't last. She didn't like that I prioritised practicing violin over time with her, and I wasn't keen enough on her to try to work things out. But we split amicably enough, and the snogging had been heavenly while it lasted, so I counted the relationship as an overall success.

.

I was sixteen when my father hired Alexandra. She was going to replace Sheila, our family's old maid, and she was gorgeous. My father proclaimed to the family that Alexandra was a school-leaver and was lucky to get as good a position as a maid in the House of Grimm; I was more interested in her long black hair, smooth tan skin, thin waist, and full breasts and hips. I wished her clothes could give me a hint as to her orientation, but she wore the same black dress our maids always wore (which looked stunning on her but told me nothing about her proclivities).

What did give me a hint about Alexandra's proclivities was the way she smiled at me, and the way she found excuses to talk to me when no one else was around, and the way she complimented my short hair and sometimes addressed my chest rather than my face. I, in turn, ogled her right back and tried to make my smile sly and enticing rather than just friendly. I also memorized her cleaning schedule so that I'd be in my room just when she was going to dust it the Friday before Christmas of my sixth year at Watford.

"Are you lesbian?" I asked as soon as Alexandra came in in with her feather duster. Her hips flared out beneath her thin waist and, Aleister, she looked amazing.

"Is that any of your business, miss?" she replied in her London accent. I'd never found a London accent sexy before, but there's a first time for everything.

"Well, _I'm_ lesbian," I explained. "And I was wondering if you wanted to snog. You don't have to—I'm not going to tell Father you're being insubordinate or whatever if you don't—but I thought it might be fun."

Alexandra paused for a moment, feather duster falling to her side, and then said, "I'm bisexual, but I've never tried snogging a girl before." She squinted at me. "You promise you won't get me in trouble?"

"Promise," I said, and we each took two steps toward each other to close the gap between us. Her lips were soft and she put a hand on my waist and a hand in my hair and dear Merlin nothing had ever felt this good.

That time, it was only snogging. The next time, we sprawled out on my floor and our hands found each other's chests as our lips locked. The third time, we stayed standing and she played with the hem of my shirt while I messed with the buttons of her dress. We'd just managed to expose each other's torsos when my door swung open and I heard my father's voice. It suddenly occurred to me why Baz had been so insistent that I should knock that first time Simon came to stay.

"Alexandra," my father intoned in that loud voice he had that wasn't quite shouting, while Alexandra and I sprang apart and tried to make ourselves decent again. "You have an hour to get out of this house and never come back. Mordelia, I will see you in the dining room when you are dressed."

Alexandra scurried from my room with a single backward glare at me, and then I fetched my mobile and did the only thing I could think of: I rang Baz. Words started pouring out of me as soon as he picked up. "Father just caught me snogging the maid and I don't know what to do."

Baz chortled, and then he started to laugh, really cracking up. "Oh, poor father. Wrong child."

"Baz, what? I'm losing my shit here!"

I heard him take deep breaths and pull himself together. "Sorry, Mordelia. I get that this is scary. It's just that I think he would have been overjoyed to find me in that position, and it was you instead, and now he has to deal with _two_ queer children."

"Baz! Say something helpful!"

"Father loves you," he said. "He loves all of us, however shite he is at showing it. Just let him shout at you and don't argue back and his anger will burn itself out and everything will be fine. And if it's not, know that you always have a place with Simon and me."

"What about Tasha?" I asked. Tasha was Baz and Simon's toddler.

"We'd put you in the childcare rotation," Baz answered. "Seriously, Mordelia, you're going to be fine."

"If you say so," I replied. "I should probably go and get this over with."

"All right. I love you," said Baz.

"I love you too," I replied, and then I hung up.

Baz was half-right—the shouting only lasted about 20 minutes, and after that Father simmered down. But he treated me so coldly from then on that I could barely stand it. By New Year's Eve, I was considering running away to Baz and Simon's when I passed the dining room and heard a female voice shouting. I cast _**Nothing to see here**_ on myself and tiptoed into the room. I was shocked to see my mother jabbing her finger into my father's chest, red-faced and spitting.

"How dare you, Malcolm? I gave you space when it was Basil because I thought you needed time to come around, but you've had twelve fucking years since he first came out to you and you have a granddaughter who barely even recognizes either of us thanks to your fucking prejudice, and now you're turning on our daughter and I have had _enough_! Treat your children with decency or neither I nor they will not be in the house come morning." I had never heard my mother swear before.

"Daphne, Daphne," my father pleaded. "What do we have to gain by supporting their unnatural lifestyle?"

"If you don't think genuine relationships with your flesh and blood are worth gaining, Malcolm, I have nothing more to say to you." I got out of her way as she stalked out of the room.

My father collapsed into a chair, then, and it was the first time I had ever seen him look truly wrecked. Then he dug his mobile out of his pocket, dialled a number, and waited. Eventually, he said, "Hello, Basil. I was wondering if you would like to celebrate New Year's Eve here in Oxford . . . I see . . . Well, please know that you and Simon are always welcome here."

I had just gotten back to my room when my mobile rang. I saw that it was Baz calling, so I picked up and heard him say, "What's gotten into Father?"

"Mum's threatening to leave him if he doesn't accept us."

" _What_?"

"I just walked in on her screaming at him."

"No offense, Mordelia, but I didn't know your mother had it in her."

"Oh, neither did I," I assured him. "I was planning on calling you today and begging you to let me spend the rest of school holidays with you, but now I think maybe I should wait and see what happens here."

"Fuck it, I'll tell Simon to cancel our plans for tonight and we'll come up. It sounds like we need to be there for this."

"Baz, are you sure? I'll be fine; I promise."

"I know you will, Mordelia. You're damn good at looking out for yourself. But this is the sort of thing I should come back for, as a big brother _and_ as a son."

"All right. I'll prepare the guest bedroom, since we're still short a maid, thanks to me." Mum had kept a bedroom free for Baz for a few years after we moved here, but eventually one of the twins had claimed it.

"Thanks. See you in a couple of hours." Baz hung up.

I fixed up the guest bedroom immediately, even going so far as to summon the old toddler bed out of the attic and levitate it down to the guest room. There was nothing else for me to do after that but wait for Baz to arrive, and I was so keyed up that I couldn't focus on reading or watching TV. I settled on playing violin. I'd been playing for over an hour when I heard my mother's voice calling up to my room, "Mordelia! Come down and greet our guests!"

I set my violin carefully back in its case and then hurried downstairs to greet my brother and his family. As soon as he saw me, Baz started taking long, elegant strides toward the staircase so that he could wrap me in a big hug as soon as I got down the stairs. "I'm proud of you," he whispered into my hair. When Baz was done hugging me, it was Simon's turn, and I was surprised by the strength of his grip. Lastly, there was Tasha, who hid behind Simon's legs and didn't let me touch her.

We usually spent holidays in the great room, so everyone headed there once Baz, Simon, and Tasha had properly come into the house. All three of my younger siblings crowded around Tasha, with Simon's supervision; Father hovered near Baz while Mother stood back and watched. I found myself hovering on Baz's other side, hoping to talk to him without Father's interference. Baz seemed to have similar ideas. He brushed Father off and motioned for me to follow him. Together, we made our way out of the great room and down the hall. Baz was in the lead; I wondered if he knew the house well enough to get where he wanted to go. I was just getting really confused when Baz turned and entered the pantry. I followed him and found him holding a bottle of champagne that he must have taken down from the shelf.

"I didn't see any in the great room," he explained, looking at me. "You can't have New Year's Eve without champagne."

I shrugged. I doubted my parents would allow me to have alcohol, so it didn't matter much to me one way or another whether anyone else drank, either.

"You can have some," Baz said, seeing my expression. "Fiona gave me alcohol when I was sixteen, so I suppose it's my job to give it to you." I only vaguely knew Baz's Aunt Fiona; she hadn't come around since I was little. "How has it been around here? You said you were thinking of asking to stay with Simon and me."

"Father's been treating me like—you know how he treats grown-ups he doesn't like? How he closes up and just watches them and barely says anything, but if you know how to read him you can feel the contempt radiating off of him? He's been like _that_."

Baz made a face. "Fuck, Mordelia, I'm sorry. You really could have come and stayed with Simon and me."

I smiled at him. "Thanks. I made it, though. Want to rejoin the party?"

"Sure," said Baz, taking another bottle of champagne off the shelf. "Can you get five champagne flutes from the kitchen? Then we'll head back."

Father and Mother both raised their eyebrows when they saw Baz and me come back with champagne, but Baz stared at them coolly until they looked away. We set the bottles and flutes down on a table, and then Baz pulled a corkscrew out of his breast pocket, uncorked one of the bottles of champagne, and filled the five flutes. He handed one to me and then carried one to Simon and one to Mother before returning to the table and fetching champagne for himself and Father. I hovered behind Baz and Father to watch them interact.

"Basil," said Father tonelessly, his eyes on Simon and Tasha.

"Father," Basil returned, just as toneless, watching his husband.

"You changed your mind," said Father.

"I talked to Mordelia."

"And?"

"I decided it would be worth checking in," Baz said. He took a sip of champagne.

Father glanced at Baz, looked back at me, and started walking away from me. Baz followed, as did I. "Since when did you give a damn about anyone in this family, Basil?" Father hissed.

"I've kept in touch with Mordelia—"

"So this is _your_ doing. You made her—"

"Father, if you honestly think it's possible to _make_ someone gay or straight—"

"You _pervert_ —"

"Father," I broke in, stepping in between them. "I've known I was queer since I was thirteen. I came out to Baz when I was fourteen and he's checked in every now and again since then. There's nothing perverted about it. And furthermore, Father, I know what Mother threatened you with. You have to play nice with _all_ of us, or else your life is about to change in ways I'm quite sure you don't want." I pointed at Simon and Tasha. "Go. Play with your granddaughter. Be glad you're getting to meet her."

Father glared first at me and then at Baz before stalking over to Simon and Tasha. Baz looked me up and down. "I'm impressed, Mordelia. Well done." We both watched Father for a while as he got down on his knees and tried to play with Tasha. Simon guided the whole interaction, keeping Tasha engaged and telling Father what to do, and Baz gave a long sigh. "I really am the luckiest man." Then Baz looked at me. "Ever been in love?"

"No," I replied. "I tried to quash my feelings, like you said. I've just had a couple flings, nothing major."

"Try it some time," Baz said, his eyes back on Simon. "It's pretty great."

 **A/N: I know that a decent person would have followed up with Alexandra. I just don't know if there's anyone in the Grimm-Pitch family, other than possibly Daphne, who would ever think of such a thing. So yeah, that's an issue I'm aware of; please don't flame me because of it. If you've got anything else to say, though, please leave a review! Favourites are lovely, too, of course!**


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